Two Cats and a DI
by SilverSmile
Summary: Greg doesn't know what he's getting himself into when he moves into a new flat, gets bullied by a cat, adopts another cat to combat this, and ends up with a fledgling gay cat romance on the mat before the fire. Seriously, how is this his life?
1. Two Cats and a DI

So, this is what happens when I'm trying to avoid studying for Human Management classes. Clearly this is the more productive way to do things.

Slightly cracky story (I mean, they're cats, of course there's been some serious disregards to human logic going on here). But I enjoyed this, and I'm planning on making it into its own little world. I have the next instalment for this written down, I just need to type it up and edit it some.

But, yes, take it with a grain of salt and hopefully (more-so in the future when we move away from Greg's story) a lot of 'aww'ing at the fluffy and cute moments between these two.

Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine

*^.^*

**Two Cats and a DI**

Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade had a problem.

A very serious problem.

A very serious, fury, problem.

Greg Lestrade was being bullied by a sleek black cat.

Once his wife and he had decided that they just weren't working any more, Greg had found himself in need of a place to live. It had just been by chance that he had run into old Mrs Hudson as he a popped into the little café for a coffee on his way to work and she had been there having a cup of tea.

Greg was very fond of the woman; she had been one of his first cases, a nasty one of domestic abuse that had resulted in her husband getting life in prison and her a building of flats. She had this way of getting people to unload all their problems on her and before Greg had known it, he was to be at her place after his shift at work to have a look at a flat while she patted his arm and sympathised with him over his failed marriage.

So, Greg had turned up at 221b Baker street and been shown up a flight of stairs to the flat for rent. While it was a bit crowded with bits and bobs from the previous tenant, Greg didn't really mind. He didn't have all that much furniture so he wouldn't be turning his nose up at what had been left there.

The whole thing was too good to be true.

In fact, apart from a brief question asking if he was allergic to cats – which he wasn't – there appeared to be nothing at all wrong with the place.

Greg had foolishly believed this until it was his first night in his new flat, and he came face to face with the creature that would be determined to make his life hell.

Greg had been happily cooking himself dinner, had placed his lovely steaming dish of chicken and vegetables on his small table before hearing his phone chime a text. Knowing it could be something important, Greg quickly went to his bedroom where he had left his phone, only to find it was just a reminder from Donovan about bringing the Miller file back to work the next day.

Relieved it was nothing life-threatening, Greg walked back to the table in the kitchen, only to pull up short at the sight before him.

A sleek black cat was perched upon his table, happily pulling apart his chicken all over the tabletop.

"Oi!" Greg yelled, angrily taking a step forward.

The creature looked up at him with grey-blue eyes, an almost bored look on its face, before it turned back to the chicken as if deeming him unimportant.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Greg cried out, reaching out to grab the creature, only for it to snatch up his chicken and jump from the table and streak out of the room towards the door to his flat.

"Get back here!" Greg yelled, moving swiftly only to see the cat slink out his open front door, the door he was positive he had shut.

Not thinking about how ridiculous he must look, Greg gave chase down the stairs, yelling insults to the chicken thief, only to reach the bottom and find Mrs Hudson holding the cat in her arms in the open door way to her own flat.

"Oh, Greg, I'm so sorry." She said, arms held protectively around the fluffy menace that still had the chicken hanging from its mouth.

"It stole my dinner." Greg growled angrily.

"I really had hopped that he wouldn't still be doing this, but, I suppose he's too used to it to stop now." Mrs Hudson said, more to herself then to him, before shaking her head.

"Why don't you come in, dear? I've just finished cooking a lovely pea and ham soup that you can have some of as you've lost your dinner. I can explain about Sherlock while we eat." She ushered him into her flat, cat still in her arms, and sat him down at her table, before placing the far too pleased feline on the kitchen floor where it proceeded to devour the rest of its stolen food.

"This here is Sherlock." Mrs Hudson said, gesturing to the cat as she sat down across from him, steaming bowls before them both.

"I found him on the doorstep in a box about two years ago now. The poor dear was crying something awful when I found him, abandoned out there like he didn't matter." She sent the cat a sad look, but it was now too busy washing itself to pay them any mind.

"Anyway, I'm afraid he's quite the little adventurer, he gets into all kinds of mischief, but he doesn't mean anything by it, the poor dear. He somehow manages to open doors, even when I swear I've locked them after me, and he likes to think he's entitled to have access to the entire building. I was hoping after the last tenant left he might stop." Mrs Hudson frowned.

"I do hope this doesn't mean you're going to leave. I've tried to contain him, but he just wants to roam around. He doesn't mean any harm by it, it's just his nature." She tried to justify the cat that was now lying on the kitchen floor as if it had nothing better to do with its time.

"So, let me get this straight." Greg said, pausing in his eating of the, admittedly very tasty, soup.

"You're cat can open doors and has no problem going into any of the other flats. So if I stay here, I'm going to have to put up with the cat coming into my flat whenever it pleases it?" Greg clarified.

Mrs Hudson just gave him a helpless shrug.

"He really is harmless." She insisted.

Looking at the lazy sod of a cat, Greg was inclined to agree with her. Apart from having stolen his chicken, it didn't look like the cat gave two tosses about Greg.

Greg thought about the idea of having to move again and the fact that he was getting an amazingly good discount on rent from the old lady.

"Yeah… yeah I think I can live with a cat occasionally stopping by my flat. Just don't steal any more of my food." Greg added the last bit with a pointed look at the feline who merely opened its eyes a crack, looked at him as if to say, 'I'll do as I like, thanks', then closed them again.

Greg purposely ignored the feeling that this was a potentially bad idea.

*^.^*

It was five weeks later that Greg had to concede that he might have to start looking for a new place to live. Sherlock had proven to be a very frequent visitor to his flat. Greg often came home to find his door slightly ajar and the black menace stretched out on his pristine white shirt that he had left out for tomorrow as he had a meeting with the Chief Superintendent. That or his curtains were shredded where Sherlock had attempted to climb them or Greg was making a late night trip to the kitchen for a glass or water and ended up stepping in what remained of a half-eaten rat on the kitchen floor.

"What you need," said Sally as she placed some files on Greg's desk, the inspector too busy with his head buried in his arms in despair to really notice her approach. "Is to get yourself a cat."

"Sally, I'm already having problems with one feline, why would I want to double it?" Greg asked, not even bothering to look up.

"If you got a cat, it would keep out your landladies cat; territorial boundaries and all that." Sally said with a shrug.

Greg was quite and still for a moment, before he slowly looked up at her as if she held all the answers to life's questions.

"Seriously?"

"Well, it worked for my friend. She had issues with cats in her backyard. But as soon as she got herself one, from an animal shelter so it was old enough and big enough to scare the others off; worked like a charm."

"Right." Greg quickly got to his feet, picking up his coat and gloves along the way.

"Where are you going?" Sally asked, surprise in her voice.

"Animal shelter." Greg said simply as he moved quickly out of his office and only just managed to stop himself from running across the building to get out.

Honestly, he was a desperate man by now.

*^.^*

"Mrs Hudson, are you home?" Greg called out as he stepped into the building, awkwardly pulling the door shut behind him.

"Yes, dear?" The woman emerged from 221a, eyes immediately zeroing in on what Greg was carrying.

"Oh! Isn't he gorgeous!" She gushed, moving over quickly to the sandy coloured cat Greg held.

Greg had a moment of apprehension as to how the cat would take being manhandled, but it merely let out what Greg would privately call an exasperated sigh and allowed the old woman to take it from Greg's arms, cradling the cat against her chest.

"Where did you get him?" She asked, stroking the cat's ears gently.

"I picked him up from a shelter. Thought maybe I should get myself some company." Greg figured the white lie was ok in this case, he couldn't very well tell her that he wanted some kind of protection from her devil of a feline.

"How lovely, what's his name?"

"I was thinking of calling him John." Greg said, a small, embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

"Oh, the John to my Sherlock. How adorable." The old lady proceeded to release a giggle that was reminiscent of a high school girl.

"Anyway," Greg coughed uncomfortably.

"Oh, yes. You had better take him upstairs and get him settled." She handed over the cat and, with one last stroke to its shorthaired head, she let them ascend the stairs.

Greg quickly went to his flat and closed the door, taking the cat and setting it on the sofa before squatting down in front of it so they were eye-to-eye.

"Ok, John, this is your new home." Greg said softly, feeling a bit silly to be talking to an animal.

John looked up at him patiently, politely waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say before he went off to explore the place.

"I want you to like living here and everything, but I won't lie and say that I didn't get you for a reason." Greg said seriously.

"Mrs Hudson, the lady down stairs, has this animal that I need you to keep out of the flat. Do you think you can do that for me?" Greg asked.

John merely blinked at him before letting out a small meow.

"Good boy." Greg gave him a pat on the head before standing and wandering into the kitchen, allowing the blond cat to jump from the sofa and begin exploring the flat.

Hopefully, 221b's newest resident would prove to be a useful addition to the flat.

*^.^*

Greg felt completely betrayed.

He sat at his kitchen table with his head in his hands, defeated. He would have stayed that way for some time if it weren't for his mobile phone suddenly beginning to ring loudly next to him. Blindly reaching out, he didn't bother to lift his head as he pressed the device to his ear.

"Hello," he answered, all the hopelessness he was feeling in his voice.

"Sir?" Sally's voice sounded confused and slightly concerned over the small speakers.

"I am never following your advice again, Sally." Greg huffed.

"Me? What did I do to you?" She asked defensively, though concern still tinted her voice.

"You said getting a cat would solve all my problems. That life would be better with it and I'd be able to go about my day with less hassle." Greg knew he was being a little melodramatic and that she'd said nothing of the sort, but he needed to complain to someone about this and she was his easiest target.

"Sir, what are you going on about?"

"You. Lied." He got out through clenched teeth.

"Greg," Sally finally said after a moment of silence over the line. "Have you been drinking?"

"What?" Greg finally sat up, frown on his face. "No, not at all."

"Then what the hell are you raving on about?" Sally asked, exasperated.

"Cats! You lied to me about the cats!" Greg cried out, free hand running through his hair in frustration.

"You said if I got myself a cat, it would keep that devil creature out of my flat. Well have I got news for you, Sergeant Donovan. It's done the exact opposite! The two get on like nobodies business and I'm pretty sure I caught them _spooning_ yesterday night."

"What-" Sally tried to interject but Greg just spoke over the top of her.

"So not only does the devil creature now practically live in my flat, but I'm pretty sure he's in 'gay-cat-love' with John!"

There was silence save for Greg's heavy breathing down the phone line for a long minute.

"I didn't know cats could be gay." Sally finally said.

Greg let out a sound that he would deny was reminiscent of a whimper and allowed himself to sag back into his seat and hang his head.

"Neither did I." He admitted.

"Still. Look on the bright side. If the landlady's cat is infatuated with you, maybe you can use that as leverage to keep him behaving. Threaten to restrict their time together if he's bad."

"I can't help but feel like this is the same advice you'd give someone in regards to getting their teenage child to behave." Greg muttered, positive Sally was smirking in amusement even if he couldn't see her.

"Hey, whatever works."

"Was there an actual reason you called me?" Greg finally asked.

"Yes, well, are you aware that you should have been here an hour ago?" Sally asked, shifting to her business voice.

Surprised, Greg looked over to where a small clock always stood, only to find that it had been knocked over and he could see one of the batteries lying on the floor beneath it. He just sighed, having used up all his energy ranting at Sally.

"Bloody cat."

*^.^*

Greg robotically entered his flat, locked the door, hung up the keys and his coat on their appropriate hooks and made a beeline for his bedroom. Upon entering he merely stripped off his shoes, trousers and shirt, leaving him in his socks, pants and a singlet. He placed his phone on his bedside table and then climbed into bed, pulling the covers up and over his head, pretending for a moment that he was still a child and such a mauver would effectively block out the realities of the world.

Today had been an all-round shit day. First had been the successful capture of a killer, but only after he had managed to kill an entire family, children included; then a hysterical family friend had yelled at him for not having caught the killer sooner and saving the family. Finally he had gone to his office to escape all the staring eyes of his department, only to see the dreaded yellow envelope containing the divorce papers from his soon to be ex-wife, sitting in pride of place in the middle of his desk.

Sometimes, being an adult sucked.

Greg was quite content in his plan to hide away for at least an hour or two, when a sudden, soft, thump and a decompression on the bed made him pull back the covers and peak over to see the rest of the bed.

Standing there was John, a rumbling purring sound coming from deep in his chest as he padded towards Greg over the duvet.

"M'row," John said softly, coming close enough that he could butt his head against Greg's check, whiskers tickling him.

"Hi John." Greg moved around so he was laying on his side, one arm emerging from the blankets and wrapping around the cat, pulling it in close to his chest for comfort.

"Today, my furry friend; was shit." Greg said eloquently.

John purred and rubbed against Greg's chest in sympathy.

They sat in silence for a minute, Greg scratching behind John's ear and under his neck while the sandy coloured cat purred and tilted his head obligingly.

Then, before Greg knew it, he was pouring out all his problems to the steady sound of a cat's purr.

As sleep slowly dragged him under, Greg was vaguely aware of another presence on his bed and a sudden increase in volume of purring. Something furry and wet touched his hand were it lay over John for a moment before pulling back.

Greg's last thought was that John was terribly warm for such a small creature.

*^.^*

When Greg woke the next morning he felt better than he had in days. Slowly cracking open his eyes, he was greeted with the sight of the two cats curled up around one another, though John's back was still resting against his chest and part of his arm was numb were it had been slept on by Sherlock.

He considered the two cats before him, one black and the other blond, heads resting so close together they were sharing the same air, legs tangled between them and tails wrapped around each other.

"So… I have queer cats." Greg muttered to himself, watching as a black ear twitched in his direction and a pair of eyes slitted open, watching him with barely a trace of interest.

"This is my life, I suppose." He sighed, chuckled for a moment, then relaxed back in the bed, intending to catch a few more hours of sleep before he had to get up and face the day.

Maybe Sally's ideas had some merit after all.

*^.^*

_Next time: Greg felt like the worst human being in existence as he gazed at the betrayed look adorning a black fury face. It was clear that the cat had been sitting upon the stairs, waiting, since John had left that morning. _


	2. Vet

The next instalment.

Also, I'm not a vet myself and I didn't want to have something too debilitating. Please don't tell me the unlikelihood of John being sick in this manner. I'm calling artistic licence.

Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Character's are not my own.

*^.^*

**Vet**

Today was not going to be a good day.

Greg had known this the moment he had booked the appointment last night.

He'd come home to a not unusual scene of two feline forms sleeping on the rug before the fireplace – clearly Mrs Hudson had been catering to their every furry whim once again. Dropping his bag and hanging up his jacket and keys, Greg called out a greeting to the duo which resulted in one black head rising from blond fur, blinking grey-blue eyes at him sleepily, then burrowing back into the sandy coloured fur after deeming him uninteresting.

Greg had found himself unaffected by this, there were only so many times a cat could snub you before you got over it.

He had gone through the motions of putting out some food and water for the slumbering pair, before getting started on something for himself for dinner. It was when he realised, three hours later when the food for the cats was still there, that something was wrong.

Sherlock was nudging the blond cat with his nose to no effect, John had just sighed as if the world was upon his shoulders and closed his eyes. Something he never did when Sherlock wanted his attention.

Greg poked and prodded John, moving the food and water to him, but he only took a lap of water before curling back up, ignoring the food completely.

Greg was on the phone to the local vet before he'd even really thought it through. The girl on the line, a Molly, was friendly and sounded as if she really cared about John, encouraging Greg to bring him into the clinic in the morning.

It was with a heavy and reluctant heart that Greg went to bed, frowning at the usually unsociable back cat that was almost fussing over the blond, but the sandy coloured cat offered a small nudge and a lick to the neck before relaxing back into sleep upon the mat.

*^.^*

"Come on, John." Greg said softly, bending down with a towel and wrapping the lethargic feline in it.

He tried to ignore the suspicious eyes that were watching his every move from under the coffee table. He managed to get all the way to the bottom of the stairs and his hand on the front door knob when an almighty yowl came from the top of the stairs.

It seemed that Sherlock had realised Greg wasn't taking John down to Mrs Hudson's.

Greg wasted no time in looking back at the cat charging down the stairs, he slipped out the door and shut it firmly behind him. The furious meowing and scratching from the other side of the door made him wince. As annoying as the black cat was, hearing its clear distress at the loss of John pulled at Greg's heartstrings.

John weakly began struggling from within his blankets, Greg having to tighten his arms around him to prevent him from falling as he tried to get back to Sherlock.

"Hey, calm down. You'll be back here later tonight." Greg tried to comfort him, but he was pretty sure the only reason the struggling stopped was because of exhaustion rather than John actually listening to him.

It wasn't a particularly good thought to entertain.

*^.^*

Greg felt like the worst human being in existence as he gazed at the betrayed look adorning the black fury face. It was clear that the cat had been sitting upon the stairs, waiting, since John had left that morning.

"Oh, Sherlock," Greg took a step towards him, but he turned tail and slinked up the stairs and out of sight.

"Whatever's wrong with him? Poor dears been crying out here for hours." Mrs Hudson queried where she poked her head out of her flat.

"I had to take John to the vet. He was pretty weak last night and he wouldn't eat. Apparently he just has a nasty case of the flue, but the vet suggested he stay overnight just to be sure. They're got him on antibiotics now so he should be good to come home tomorrow night when I pick him up after work." Greg explained.

"Oh the poor thing! How awful for both of them. I'll pick up some nice chicken mince tomorrow from the market and make them both up something nice. Poor dears." She then bustled back into her flat, no doubt to write 'chicken mince' onto her shopping list.

Greg trekked up stairs and into his flat, keeping an eye out for something black and fluffy, but not actively seeking him out, knowing it wouldn't be appreciated. Greg wouldn't like it either if he ended up with a series of claw marks down his arm.

In fact, Greg didn't do anything until just before he went to bed, He refilled the water dish and put down some fresh biscuit, but didn't really think they'd be eaten.

"John will be home tomorrow night. Don't worry." Greg said, eyes fixed on a familiar pile of blankets that was the usual napping ground for the two four-legged terrors. He was pretty sure Sherlock was sleeping there – or at least he was laying there – because of how much it smelt of the blond cat.

Greg sighed when he didn't even get an ear twitch or a ruffle of a furry tail in response, before turning and going to bed. Really, tomorrow night couldn't come soon enough.

*^.^*

One negative of taking your pet to the vet, despite the insane cost, was that your pet smelt funny afterwards. John, for his part, had that familiar wet animal combined with disinfectant and dog specific shampoo smell hanging around him.

Greg was man enough to admit that his affection and worry over the blond cat had been great enough for him to ignore the smell and hold him close.

"Sherlock's missed you dreadfully." Greg said as he held the cat close while opening the front door and slipping inside.

"He hid in your den all night and was still there this morning when I left. Wouldn't even look at me. As if I'd really take you away from him. Silly bugger." Greg couldn't stop the affection from leaking into his voice towards the black cat.

John just hung limp in his arms, clearly exhausted from his trip and just happy to be home.

Greg took him upstairs and into his flat, unable to keep a grin off his face at the sight of Sherlock exactly where he'd left him. Moving over, Greg carefully placed John down on the blankets beside Sherlock, the latter looking up with feline shock painted across his furry face.

"Told you he'd be home soon." Greg muttered to Sherlock, though he was pretty sure he wasn't listening, too busy nuzzling under John's chin and curling up around him where he proceeded to give John a bath, no doubt disliking the smell of the clinic as well.

Leaving the duo of cats to it, Greg went about his usual evening routine, glancing over to the two cuddled up around one another occasionally.

Just before he retired for the night, he saw Sherlock rest his head on top of the back of John's nock, blue-grey eyes sleepy and a rumbling purr sounding from his furry chest.

Everyone was very glad to have John home again.

*^.^*

_Next Time: Silence stretched out between the two as Greg stared at Sherlock, completely baffled. The black feline had folded himself in half and was laying upside down, his tail twitching in front of his face. _

_"Hey Sherlock... __you ok there?" Greg asked cautiously. _

__Also, for those of you who are interested, I'm happy to take requests if there's something you'd really like to see John and Sherlock get up to? :)


End file.
